


Stiles' Nightmare

by lunias1



Series: Stiles' Nightmares [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Peter, Flashbacks, Hurt Stiles, Kidnapping, M/M, Mates, Torture, hurt comfort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 03:38:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 17
Words: 19,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/706088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunias1/pseuds/lunias1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles gets kidnapped,and Peter lets it out the Stiles is his mate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Kidnapping

**Author's Note:**

> So, my first fic thats over a couple hundred words.
> 
> Title is subject to change...

The woods surrounding the Hale house were quite for once, even though Peter knew without a doubt that it wouldn't last for long. Not with the rogue hunters around. Not until each and every one of them were gone. 

He had been talking to Chris earlier that day when he was told that some hunters decided it was a good time for a free for all hunt. Immediately he had sent Derek to inform the there wolves about the hunters. He had also told Derek to get Scott to go and stay with Stiles, so hopefully he wouldn't get caught up in the middle of this battle. Peter himself would have gone, after all Stiles is his mate, but with the Sheriff around, even though he did know about the werewolves now, and the need to come up with a plan, he decided to stay at the house, getting Chris to go there so they could come up with something to deal with the hunters. 

His plan should have worked just fine, would have worked, if people would’ve done what they were supposed to. 

\--------------------  
It’s been hours since the Sheriff showed up at the Hale house, shaken, saying that Stiles never came home, he couldn’t find him anywhere’s, that Stiles was missing, presumably kidnapped by hunters. Hunters that had came into town in the shadow of the first group of hunters. Hunters, that no one knew where there until it was too late. 

Now Derek, Isaac and Boyd where out there trying to find them, checking in every so often with the same message; nothing yet. 

"Where are they!?!?" Peter roared his voice rising with each word. "Where is Stiles?" But before anyone could answer he continued, "And you Scott, where the hell were you? You were supposed to be with him, but no you, what, went off to play with your hunter girlfriend instead?!" 

"Peter, I think…"

"I don't give a fuck what you think Chris. That’s Stiles out there." and without evening thinking he continues, "He's my Mate, and you Chris of all people should know how well Alpha's do when their Mates are in danger." 

"Mate…." Chris whispered, eyes going wide, "Stiles is your Mate? But he's…"

"Human, Underage. Yes I know all that, but it doesn't change the fact that he is my Mate, and I want him back where he's safe."

"What are you talking about, what the hell are Mates, and how is Stiles yours?" the Sheriff asked his voice getting somewhat high pitched. 

"Mates are..." Chris started before he was interrupted by a growl. 

No one heard Derek come in the house, not until he spoke up, interrupting Chris. "Now is not the time for this. Peter, we may know where the hunters are holed up, and if they have Stiles then that where he will be." Derek stated rather calmly despite the situation. "They're in an old warehouse just outside of town, it's been abandoned for years now."

Peter looked at Derek giving him one of his evil little smirks and said, "Well what are we waiting for then, we have some hunters to slaughter for touching what’s mine." 

Without waiting for a reply Peter just turned and left the Hale house, his pack following him, and behind him the Argents. The Sheriff just stared after them for a moment then ran out after Chris and got in his vehicle before he could leave. 

"Sheriff…." Chris started but was calmly interrupted 

"I'm not the Sheriff right now Chris. That’s my son out there, being held by those maniacs having god only knows what’s done to him. I still want to know what Peter meant by 'Mates'" Chris started to say something only to be interrupted by the Sheriff once more. "But for now Derek is right, now is not the time for that, but as soon as I get my son back I want answers. So Drive." 

Without another word Chris put his vehicle into drive and sped towards the warehouse where Stiles was being held. 

\------------------

Stiles moaned in pain, opening his eyes, not remembering what had happened. One moment he was driving home, trying to come up with a cover story for Scott not being where he was supposed to be, then, nothing. At first he couldn’t see much, his vision blurry, but slowly his vision cleared, not that it helped much, as the room didn’t have much light. 

The room he was in was large, to large to be an actual room, the floor cold, unsteady, shifting with him. He realized that he was on a concrete floor, covered with sheets of metal. His wrists bound by shackles, actual shackles for fucks sake, connecting him to the floor with a chain. He tried to stand but the chain too short for him to make it to his feet, so he struggled to his knees looking around to try and place where he was. 

A clatter behind him startled him. “Well looks like our guest is finally awake.”

“Yes it does, so where do we start? Questions first? Or should we just start by beating it out of him.” 

“Who the fuck are you? I’m not gonna tell you a damn thing you stupi…” the air rushed out of his lungs as a large fist connected with his stomach, more startling then hurting. 

“You will tell us what we want to know. You will tell us where your Pack is. Weaknesses. And anything else we want. And do you want to know why you will tell us.”

“Please enlighten me you bloody moron as to why I would ever tell you anything.” Stiles snapped with his usual sarcasm. 

“Well you see that thing that my friend is holding.” The man stated with an annoying calmness to his voice. “That is a homemade shock collar, made for humans, yea you humans who try to run with wolves, try to be a part of their pack.” 

Stiles eyes widened, his breath quickening. Color drained from his face as he put the pieces of this sadistic puzzle together. They would shock him; electrocute him into giving them the answers they need, want. 

“Yes you see it’s really the humans who hold a pack together. They help ground the wolves, help make them stronger. Because when a pack has people they need to protect they get stronger, but take that away from them and they will turn, blaming each other, the distrust grows, creating gaps in the pack. And those gaps can be easily manipulated to make it so much easier to take out those abominations.” He spit out that last word. Abominations. But as Stiles see’s it, it’s not the wolves that are the abominations. 

All the while the first man, who Stiles has dubbed Tweedledee, was talking, his partner, Tweedledum, made his way over to Stiles and with relative ease buckled the collar around his neck. 

“And now the fun shall begin.” Tweedledee started, “Where is your pack?” 

“Well Tweedledee, how the fuck should I know. You know considering you have me CHAINED TO A FUCKING FLOOR.” Stiles yelled the last few words his frustration bleeding through. 

Tweedledum made a sound “Tsk. Tsk.” Just before Stiles felt the electricity run through his body. Making him arch his back, a scream ripping its way out of his throat.

“Well do you want to answer now?”

Stiles just glared at him, breathing heavily. “I wont tell you a thing. Nothing.” 

Tweedledum cocked his head to the side and again Stiles felt the burning pain of being electrocuted again. This time, his body writhing on the floor with the pain, choked sounds coming out of his mouth.

“Fuck you” Stiles gasped. He glared, thinking that if this is what it came down to. If it was protect those he loved or die at the hands of the psychos, he would chose death every time. He would not betray his friends, his family, his Pack. 

His captors glared right back, “You will tell us everything you know.” 

Stiles can no longer tell how much time is passing, minutes, hours, days, it all blends to him. The pain excruciating, yet still not enough to kill him. After all they don’t want him dead; not yet, they want answers, information.

“You will tell us everything you know.”

These words, spoken every time he is shocked, start to echo in his head, so he does the only thing he can think of to stop them. He tells them everything he knows. 

You will tell us everything you know.

He starts with lacrosse, the rules, regulations, team information, everything he knows about lacrosse. Then he goes to food, recipes, facts on different foods, he tells them everything. Everything; but nothing, all at the same time. 

After a long time in between shocks he hears his captors talking, not catching every word, but enough to know that it just might get worse now 

“This is going nowhere, we need to try something…”

“Like what? This always…”

“How about…”

“No.”

“Then this…”

“That should work…”

Stiles tried to get up on his knees, almost succeeding, but not quite. Though he didn’t have to worry about getting up. His captors came over, one releasing the chain from the floor, the other grabbing the chain and pulling him across the floor. He was thrown onto a chair, his chains attached to the chair this time. 

“Oohhhh. New accommodations. Though nothing at all like the Ritz.” Stiles realized even before he finished his statement that all it would get him was pain. Which is exactly what happened.

He was expecting a fist, boot, maybe even pipe or something, but he didn’t expect the knife. The knife they now used to cut his shirt off. Stiles broke out in a cold sweat, fear blossoming in his chest, thinking that now, maybe now they will just kill him. But still they don’t, instead Tweedledum put the blade against his stomach and sliced downwards toward his groin, a scream gurgling out of his throat.

Time passes, how much, Stiles doesn’t know. He only knows the feeling of the blade slicing through his skin, the feeling of fists pounding his ribs, not hard enough to break, but hard enough to bruise. He has no concept of time, no concept of anything. 

I must have passed out. Stiles thought, as he is roughly shaken awake by one of his captors. 

“Now, now, now. You can’t sleep for to long. We still need those answers, and by now you would think that you pack would be searching for you.” 

Stiles slowly lifted his head up and looked in the faces of his captors, one kneeling right in front of him, and the other stand behind him fingering a bloody knife. 

Tweedledee, the one kneeling in front of him, reached forward and grabbed his chin, forcing his head back up when it started to droop again. “Answer me now. Where Is Your Pack?”

With the last little bit of energy Stiles could muster, he drew his head back and spit in Tweedledee’s face, “Fuck You.” 

Tweedledee recoiled back from Stiles, a look of hatred on his face. As he stood up he held his hand out to his partner, “Give me the knife.” His voice hard, cold. 

This is it. Stiles thought to himself as Tweedledee came towards him, knife in hand. 

Tweedledee grabbed a hold of Stiles’ head, forcing it back, and placed the blade of the knife above his right temple. He dug the knife into the skin and, slowly, ever so slowly pulled the knife down his face. He grinned as the blade slide through skin, splitting it open, as blood flowed over the blade, and down Stiles’ face. 

Grinned even more as the scream ripped its way out of his throat. Tweedledee stepped back, letting Stiles’ head drop back down, unconsciousness starting to claim Stiles again. 

The last thing Stiles remembers is a loud howl reverberating through the building, as the darkness claims him once again.


	2. Peter's Sort of Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flash back scene where Peter apologizes, sorta.

_“Hello Stiles.”_

_“Damnit Peter, how many time have I told you that there is a bloody door in my house?”_

_Peter just smiled his infuriating little smile and climbed the rest of the way through the window and into Stiles bedroom._

_“We missed you at the pack meeting today Stiles. I assume you have an appropriate excuse.” Peter said, his eyebrow raised as if to say ‘well I’m waiting’._

_“I wasn’t aware I was part of your ‘pack’. I’m just the helpless little human you use for research and then you don’t even tell me what’s going on.” Stiles glared at Peter for a moment then just turned back around towards his desk. “Well you can forget it, I won’t be used, not by you, not by anyone.”_

_Stiles never heard Peter move, didn’t know he had until he felt Peter’s hands on his shoulders, turning him around._

_“You are a part of my pack, whether you know it or not, you are.” Peter took a deep breath. “It might have been slightly stupid of me to not include you in what happened with the Alpha Pack, but I would not change what I did.” Peter looked as if he might say something else, but chose instead to stay silent._

_Stiles sighed and pulled away from Peter. “I guess that’s the closest I’m going get to an apology. Look all I want is to not be treated like the weak human to be told whats going on, to not be treated like a child.” Stiles said with a glare. “Can you do that?”_

_Stiles waited for Peters reply. Knowing that his answer could very well mean the difference between him staying with the pack and him leaving. Peter must have understood this as he pondered his answer._

_“I can… try.”_

_“Try hard…”_

_Peter held up his hand to interrupt Stiles. “There’s things you don’t know yet, things I can’t tell you yet.” Stiles looked as if he was going to say something. “No don’t say anything yet, I can’t tell you yet, not won’t, can’t. Just try to understand. I will tell you, but I can’t yet. It’s not a wolf thing either. It wouldn’t matter if you were one or not at this point. So just please try to understand this even just a little.”_

_Stiles looked shocked, never hearing Peter saying that much at once, and certainly never hearing him say please._

_“Well I guess that will have to do for now, for now Peter. I still want answers.”_

_“So, you’ll come back now?”_

_“I suppose so.” Stiles said, and then grinned. “After all, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say please before.”_

_Peter turned and went back to the window and started to crawl out only to pause for a moment and look back at Stiles. “Oh, and by the way Stiles. Your Father is coming up the stairs.”_

_“WHAT!” Stiles yelled as Peter disappeared through the window._

_“Stiles? Are you okay?” John said as he entered his son’s room._


	3. Peters Rage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds his mate.

_That scream. That sound of pure pain and terror. That came from Stiles. Mine. My Mate. They hurt him. They touched what’s MINE. They will DIE._

Peter raced through the woods, his betas following, not quite fast enough though as Peter raced ahead. His form crashing through the woods, quicker then any of the betas, getting closer to his destination faster then anyone else, yet still not fast enough. As he came to the edge of the woods he howled, the sound piercing the otherwise quiet night air, the betas howling in response to their alphas call. 

He didn’t pay attention to anything as he ran towards the warehouse, nothing except the sound of a familiar heartbeat. A heartbeat that was slow, slow but steady. He raced to the building that housed that heartbeat, ripping through flesh and bone to get there. Peter ran, ignoring the pain he felt from the hunter’s bullets, to the building. 

He howled as he crashed through the warehouse doors, his eye immediately settled on Stiles. He took in how the chains were the only thing holding Stiles from falling, how Stiles was obviously unconscious. He saw the two hunters who stood near Stiles, one holding a bloody knife to the boy’s throat, the other holding a gun pointed in his direction. 

As focused on each other as the adversaries were they didn’t notice how the sounds of the battle outside had dwindled to nothing. They didn’t even acknowledge the fact that someone had came into the building. Not until one of them spoke.

“Who are you?” Chris asked 

“Who are we?” one of them spat out, “We are Hunters. We are doing what _you_ should have done months ago.”

“Oh. And what might that be” Chris asked almost sarcastically. “Take a human hostage. The Sheriffs son no less.”

“We are getting the information we need to take out this pack of abominations.”

“Well it seems to be the other way around here. You are the only ones left. The rest are all dead.” Chris stated calmly.

“What…” A growl interrupted the man before he could finish, the man looked around finally taking notice of the fact that they lost sight of the Alpha. His eyes widened as he looked around, looking for the hulking shape of the creature, yet failing to find him.

The man looked back to Chris seeing a smile start to build on his face, “Let me ask you something?” Chris asked the man, “Do you know what else that boy there is?” The man eyes widened a fraction unsure of what was happening, fear finally showing at the next thing that Chris asked.

“Do you know what happens when you hurt an Alphas Mate.” 

The men’s eyes widened, absolute terror showing on both of their faces as a growl sounded behind them. The men swung themselves around only to see blazing red eyes in a sea of darkness. Before either of them could react the eyes leapt towards them, a shape forming as it came closer to the light and out of the dark. A hulking shape that fully formed as it landed in between the two men.

Peter grabbed the man with the gun first. The claws of one hand ripping through his back and out his stomach, the other hand went over the mans head grabbing a hold of his chin, claws tearing into the tender skin of his throat. The gurgling sounds coming from him showed that he was still alive for the moment. The Alpha was not satisfied with this though, the threat to his mate had to be eliminated completely, leaving no room for error, and with a pull of his hand he ripped the mans head from his body. Letting the pieces of the broken man fall to the ground he then turned to the last remaining threat. 

The other man having seen his colleague decapitated, gave into his fear and tried to run. He barely had time to turn around before he was grabbed, one clawed hand wrapped around his throat, lifting him into the air. Peter growled as he reached up with his other hand and gutted the man. His claws sinking into the tender skin of his throat, and ripping all the way down the front of the man. Intestines, spilling out, as his body fell to a crumpled mess onto the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His heart shattered as he took in what his son had had to endure in the hours it took to find him.

“Stiles.” John gasped in horror as he ran towards his son. Taking in the carnage around him, John couldn’t even bring himself to care about anything other then the bloody mess his son was. Maybe later, when he calmed down, he would be disgusted at what he saw, but even before the thought finished he knew it was a lie. 

Before John could even get close to Stiles his path was blocked by Peter, still in is Alpha form, teeth bared, a low growl emitting from deep in his chest. 

John noticed Chris coming up beside him out of the corner of his eye. He looked to Chris, his eyes pleading, not knowing how to get Peter to let him help his son.

“Peter, you need to let us get to Stiles.” Chris said his voice calm, John thought, just like how one would talk to a wounded animal. “You have to shift back too, Stiles needs the human you.” At the sound of his mates name Peter whined. He stared at John and Chris for a second longer then turned to Stiles, walking over he licked at Stiles face and whined again.

John and Chris ran to Stiles, and tried to release the chains holding him. The shackles around his wrists were bolted shut, and the chain welded to the floor. 

John let out a frustrated sound. “How the Fuck are we supposed to get these off of him, he needs to be at a fucking hospital.” 

Before Chris, or any of the others who had joined them, could reply Peter let out a rough sound, grabbed the chain between his jaws, careful not to bite Stiles, and snapped it in half. 

John caught Stiles as he slid forward out of the chair and gently laid him on his back on the cold cement floor. His eyes widened in shock, seeing his son’s bloody body. His face caked in blood, his chest and stomach covered in cuts in seemingly random patterns. However, as John looked closer at the cuts on his son’s chest, he saw what looked like a bow and arrow carved into the skin covering his heart. His heart shattered as he took in what his son had had to endure in the hours it took to find him.

“We need to get him out of here, he needs to go to the hospital.” John barely got out before he choked on his words. 

Forever will John be grateful to Chris at this moment. When john could do nothing but cradle his son in his arms, Chris took over.

“John, you need to get Stiles out of here now,” Chris got no reaction from John at first, _“Now John.”_ That seemed to be enough to get through to John, as he nodded and then moved to lift Stiles, the weight making him stumble until two arms reached out and steadied him. 

“Let me. Please let me.” Peters voice broke through the haze that had settled in John’s head. John looked at Peter, his eyes searching for something. John must have found what he wanted on Peters face, because with a short _Yes_ , John handed Stiles to Peter.

“Get Stiles out of here now, Peter, John, call Melissa and have her waiting for you when you get there. We will take care of the mess here then meet you at the hospital. Go.” Chris said, “Scott, Erica, go with them, there may be more hunters out there. Isaac, Boyd, gather up all the hunters bodies and pile them in the back of their trucks, use at least two trucks, don’t put to many bodies on one truck. Find two bodies where the wounds are only from bullets and bring them in here and put them here. We need to explain Stiles wounds somehow. Derek help me either find keys or hotwire the trucks.”

Peter was already gone with Stiles, John, Erica and Scott, not even waiting to hear the rest of what Chris ha to say. Isaac and Boyd looked to Derek and at his nod ran to do what Chris had said. 

Derek just nodded to Chris and went to do what Chris had asked of them. The bodies were loaded onto the back of two of the hunters trucks, two of the bodies were placed in the warehouse near where Stiles had been held. 

“Derek, is there a place you know of in your woods where we can burn and then bury these bodies.” Chris said, his voice hard. 

Derek grinned in a feral way. “I know just the place.”


	5. John's Nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is he….” Johns asked his voice soft.
> 
> “He’s just unconscious.” Scott answered the unasked question.

Peter ran to Chris’ SUV and started to climb carefully into the backseat, “Peter.” Scotts voice drifted in behind him. “You need to put some clothes on man, they wont let you into the hospital with Stiles otherwise.” Peter turned around and snarled at Scott. “I didn’t make the rules Peter. Look just put Stiles in the backseat and put theses on.” 

Peter made no move to let Stiles go and with a frustrated sigh Erica butted in “Oh damnit put the damn pants on, Stiles is gonna be okay, he’s still alive, just put him in the seat and put these on.” She grabbed the pants that had been in Scott’s hands and threw them in Peters face. 

Peter turned to the SUV, the backseat door being opened by Scott, and leaned forward and gently placed Stiles in the seat; he then turned and grabbed the sweat pants of the ground and tugged them on. Reaching back into the car he picked Stiles back up and got into the backseat and held Stiles against his chest, one hand on his chest and the other wrapped around to his lower back. 

John jumped into the driver seat, Erica in the front passenger seat and Scott got in beside Peter and Stiles. John quickly started the vehicle and tore out of the warehouse yard and headed towards the hospital. 

“Scott..” John didn’t get to finish his statement before Scott answered with a quick, “On it.” Scott dug out his phone and called his mother, telling her what had happened and that they were on their way to the hospital. She listened to her son describe what Stiles looked like, his wounds, the blood. Scott nodded at something his mother said then hung up the phone. “They’ll be waiting for us when we get there. Moms making sure of it.”

All of a sudden Erica gasped, and turned around in her seat to look at Stiles, Scott also turned.

“Whats going on?” Johns panicked voice asked, his heartbeat spiking. 

Erica started to say that nothing was wrong when Stiles voice drifted through the car barely audible, “Peter? Whats…?” Stiles coughed, then winced as pain wracked his body.

“Don’t talk Stiles, please just don’t. We’re almost at the hospital. You’re gonna be okay.” Peters voice was low, and fragmented as he spoke. 

“It’s gonna be okay son.” Johns voice filtered in from the front of the SUV. 

Stiles tried to give a wobbly smile, to which Peter tried to smile back. Stiles head then tilted back down to lie on Peter’s chest as he slipped back into unconsciousness. 

“Is he….” Johns asked his voice soft.

“He’s just unconscious.” Scott answered the unasked question. 

John continued to drive, turning here, letting out frustrated sounds when he has to slow down in places. After a few minutes that felt like hours they pulled into the hospital. 

Peter jumped out of the car before it even stopped completely, Scott and Erica quickly following him, John jumping out as soon as the vehicle was turned off. 

Melissa had been at the hospital doors watching for them and ran out as soon as she saw the group. Her eyes immediately went to Peter holding Stiles, a gasp sounded as her eyes widened. She stood for just a moment in shock then quickly shook it off, taking over the situation. 

“Peter, bring him this way we have a bed waiting for him now.” They all rushed into the hospital and followed Melissa to where the bed was waiting. 

“Put him on here Peter.” When Peter made no effort to place Stiles on the bed, Melissa slap him on the arm, “Put him down here, or else we wont be able to help him.” Peters eyes widened at Melissa, her eyes just glaring back. 

Peter put Stiles on the bed, his hand staying on his shoulder, not wanting to break contact just yet. Another group of people rushed in, there scents foreign to Peter and he made a low sound in his throat as they spoke, the sound getting loader when they wheeled him away. Peter started to take a step forward when Melissa stopped him. “Peter, you need to wait here, let them help Stiles,” at the sound of that name Peters gaze focused on Melissa, “Also you need to get some clothes on.” She gave a pointed look to her son. Scott turned and moved towards the front entrance of the building as he dug out his cell phone, knowing not to argue with that look. Melissa continued to explain what would happen and what had happened to Stiles, eyes widening in horror as the story was told. She put a comforting hand on Johns shoulder, and said, “He’ll be okay, John.” 

Hours passed while Stiles was in surgery, Chris, Derek and the others came to the hospital, gazes hardened and with a nod they let John, Peter, Scott and Erica that they had done what needed to be done. 

Police came, took statements, and gave sympathetic looks to their Sheriff. All through this Peter said nothing, just stared in the direction that they had taken Stiles. John asked Derek and Chris questions about what had been said at the house, had things explained to him. He got upset and angry, then calmed down as it was explained to him exactly what being a mate to a werewolf meant. That no matter what Stiles always has a choice in the matter. At times they all waited in silence, no one wanting to break the quiet. 

All at once, the wolves in the room all looked up at the waiting room door, the humans looking up too as the door opened. 

“Stilinski Family?” The doctor asked as he walked closer.

“I am,” John said as he stood. “How’s… how’s my son?” 

The doctor looked at the group of people surrounding the boy’s father, his eyes questioning. But before he could ask the question forming in his mind John spoke up. 

“You can say what you have to say here, Doctor.”

The Doctor nodded and proceeded to explain what he did and what needed to be done for the boy. “He will have extensive scaring, and with time they made fade some, but it will be doubtful if they ever fade completely. He will have to take it easy for quite awhile, and will have to keep a close eye on his cuts to make sure there is no infection. We are going to keep him here for awhile to keep an eye on some of the more severe wounds.” The doctor continued to explain that Stiles was not awake yet but people could go in and see him for a few minutes, but only two at a time. 

John stood and took a step towards where Stiles was, he turned back towards the group and his eyes settled on Peter, and if it was something he said all the time, he asked “Peter, are you coming?”


	6. Awaken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wakes up.

Peter snapped his head up to look at John, his eyes wide in a look of utter surprise. He sat there immobile as what John said fully sunk in. 

John just stared back with an unreadable expression on his face. “Well come on.”

Peter stood up and followed John down the hallway to the room Stiles was in. When they entered the room John quietly closed the door behind him and went to stand beside Stiles bed.   
As he looked at his son he said, “I don’t understand all this talk about mates and that, but the way you looked at him, the way you held him, it was… fuck,” John ran a frustrated hand through his hair, “I don’t know what it was.” John was silent for a moment as he thought about something, he turned to face Peter, “Look, I wont say I approve, not yet, and I will probably never understand, but it all comes down to Stiles and what is best for him.”

“I… I’ll do my best, that’s all I can say right now, he’s…” Peter stopped and looked at Stiles laying so still in the hospital bed, the sound of beeping surrounding him, “He’s my Mate, that means everything to us, to me. After,” Peter gave a little wave of his hand, “Just after, I never thought that anything like this could happen, especially to me. It’s a gift, he’s a gift.” Peter stopped talking and looked at John. 

John and Peter stare at each other for a few seconds, a silent conversation going on between the two of them. John must of liked or at least understood what Peter was trying to say, as he said with a little huff, “Stiles is gonna yell at me for this but, if you ever hurt my son I will shoot you, and Chris told me where he keeps his wolfs bane bullets.”

“If I ever hurt him like that, I will let you.” Peter replied.

\--------------

Stiles was unconscious for three days, in those three days, he was rarely ever alone. John would come in and sit with his son when he wasn’t at work. Everyone else stopped in here and there, mostly after school had got done. All of them would talk to Stiles tell him about what had happened; Harris was harassing other people now, how Flintstock was still as idiotic as ever. Peter however was there everyday, for as long as he could stay. He would read, or sometimes talk, most of the time, though, in those three days was spent staring out the window contemplating what happened. What would be best for Stiles.

\-------------

Stiles woke up in the morning of the forth day. He was only awake long enough to get some ice chips, and for the doctor to check on him. He fell back to sleep before he could ask any of the questions swimming around in him mind.

\--------------

It was 5:46pm on the forth day Stiles was in the hospital that it started. Peter was sitting in the chair beside the bed when he noticed a slight twitching movement on Stiles face. Soon after Stiles started moving around, tossing and turning restlessly. Peter stood up and moved the blanket covering Stiles down to his waist when he started to sweat. Peter watched, feeling useless as Stiles obviously was having a nightmare and there was nothing he could do to help. After all you can kill a nightmare.

Peter listened closely to Stiles heartbeat, waiting for any change that would signify the end of this thing. 

After a few minutes Peter noticed a slight change in Stiles breathing, and his heart beat only seconds before Stiles woke up. Only Stiles didn’t just wake up. He woke up screaming, his voice tearing its way out of his throat. 

It only took seconds before doctors and nurses rushed into the room to check on Stiles. Only one doctor stayed and talked to Stiles. To tell him that nightmares were normal after something like this happened. 

Peter really didn’t pay any attention to the doctor; his focus was all on Stiles. When the doctor finally left the room Peter returned to his seat by the bed. He leaned forward and took hold of Stile hand, holding it between both of his, rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand. 

“Peter…?” Stiles voice was raw from days of no use, confusion covering his face. 

“Hush Stiles, you’ve been asleep for almost 4 days now. Just rest for now, we can talk about everything else later. Okay?”

Melissa walked into the room next, holding a syringe with what Peter assumed was morphine. 

“Hello Stiles, it’s good to see you awake.” Stiles tried to give a wobbly smile. “Here’s some painkillers for you.” She said as she gave him the morphine. “Sleep Stiles.” Melissa gave a slight smile to Peter as she left the room. 

Peter stood and leaned over Stiles. Stiles eyes widened for a fraction of a second before they started to droop, the morphine doing its job. Just before Stiles eyes closed completely in sleep he felt Peters lips against his own as Peter laid a chaste kiss on Stiles lips. He wished that would be what he dreamed about. Both of them did.


	7. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“You will tell us everything.”_
> 
> _“Fuck You.”_
> 
> _The first one connected with his jaw. The second his stomach. The third his mouth. And it went on, and on. The pain flaring every time the fist connected to his body._
> 
> _Crack. His ribs. Crunch. His teeth. Blood spewed. Splattered. Dripped._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I hope you all like this chapter, if took a little bit more to write this one. The nightmares were somewhat difficult to write. 
> 
> Thank you to all the people who have read this. 
> 
> And i really need to say thank you to lj_todd, afterall it would probably take me a lot longer to write if i didn't bounce ideas off of her and get some advice. 
> 
> All comments are welcome, Thanks again.

Day 5, 8:43 am.

_He was running through the woods, blood pounding in his ears, branches snapping across his face, stumbling over rocks._

_“There he is. Don’t kill him. Catch Him!”_

_“AAhhh…” a scream tore out of his throat, an agonizing pain settled in his calf as an arrow imbedded itself there._

_He stumbled, blinding pain, and fell to the ground. Hands grabbed him, pulled him up. Another flash of pain in his neck, then everything goes black._

“Shhh Stiles, its okay, you’re okay.” That voice so soothing, “Go back to sleep, Stiles. I’m here. Go back to sleep.” A thumb making soothing circles on the back of his hand lulling him back to sleep.

“Peter…” Yes it was Peter; he’d keep the nightmares away.

\---------------

Day 6, 7:13 am.

_“You will tell us everything.”_

_“Fuck You.”_

_The first one connected with his jaw. The second his stomach. The third his mouth. And it went on, and on. The pain flaring every time the fist connected to his body._

_Crack. His ribs. Crunch. His teeth. Blood spewed. Splattered. Dripped._

_“Tell Us Everything.”_

_“Fuck… you…”_

“Stiles, Stiles, STILES.” John frantic voice penetrated Stiles mind. “Shh. It’s okay son. You’ll be okay.”

Stiles eyes were already fluttering shut, the soothing feeling of his fathers hand stroking over his hair, putting him back to sleep. 

\-------------

Day 6, 9:53 pm.

_“Tell Us.”_

_“Tell us everything.”_

_“You will.”_

_“No ones coming.”_

_“You’re nothing.”_

_“Now tell us.”_

_“Tell us.”_

_“YOU WILL TELL US EVERYTHING!”_

Stiles jerked awake his eyes wide, gasping for breath.

“Stiles, shh, breathe, come on breathe in. There that’s it.” Stiles looked up to see Peter hovering above him. 

“Pe… Peter.” Tears filled Stiles eyes as he tried to say something, anything. “H…hurts…”

“Shh, its okay Stiles,” Peter looked over to the door of his room, “Melissa’s here to give you something.”

Melissa walked over to the bed, “Hi Stiles, how are you feeling today.”

“Hurts,” Stiles swallowed and tried again, “It hurts… Drink?” 

“Let me ask the doctor about some ice chips. Do you think you can stay awake that long?”

“I… Try.”

Peter laid his hand on Stiles forehead; the other held his hand, “Just stay awake a little longer, Okay Stiles.”

Peter looked towards the door, then back down to Stiles, a small smile on his lips. “I’m going to help a bit with your pain Stiles.”

“No…” Stile stuttered out, but Peter had already started to leech the pain out of Stiles, he didn’t get much before Melissa came back in with a small glass of ice chips and handed them to Peter. 

“Here, only a few though.” Melissa said. Her gaze settled on Stiles again and with a small smile, “The doctor is going to be in, in just a few minutes okay.”

\---------------

The doctor came and went. Saying things they already knew, a few they didn’t. He tried to get Stiles to talk about what had happened, about how he got the wounds, but Stiles wouldn’t talk, just looked away and kept silent. His was father standing by the window with a frown on his face. Peter sitting by Stiles bed, holding onto his hands. 

There was only one thing that the doctor said that made Stiles feel any better, a small smile gracing his lips, a small light to his eyes. 

 

He could go home. Soon. As long as there were no complications, no infection, and Stiles could get up and move around, he could go home. The doctor told him not to push it though. It would probably be a few more days. Today is Monday, if all goes well he could be leaving by Thursday or Friday. 

\---------------

Tuesday came, and since they changed what painkillers he was on Stiles was awake more. He talked some, about nothing important. Peter was there all day, only leaving when his father came to visit for a few minutes on his lunch, he dint stay very long, but it was long enough for Stiles to ask his father if he’d been eating right. 

The afternoon passed as Stiles listened to Peters voice as he read from the first Lord of The Rings book. He dozed some but Peter still read, Stile had already read all the books and watched all the movies so he knew what happened. 

Scott came after school was out, Allison was with him, followed soon by Isaac, Boyd, Erica, then Danny, Jackson and Lydia, and then lastly Derek came. The whole group was there, but only for a moment before a doctor came in and ushered them all out saying there were rule about people in the rooms for a reason. Stiles smile fell just a little bit. 

\----------------

On Wednesday everything was the same as Tuesday, right down to the doctor making everyone leave. The only thing that was different was the doctor came in and asked his father to come out so he could talk to him. 

Peter was still in the room, and Stiles looked to him.

“Will you tell me…” he made a small wave towards the door. 

Peter gave a little sigh, leaned forward and took a hold of Stiles hand. “Are you sure?”

Stiles nodded his head quickly and then winced as pain shot through his head. “Yes.”

“The doctor thinks you should talk to a therapist, to talk about what happened since you won’t talk to anyone else.” Peter looked closely at Stiles face looking for any indication on how he felt about what he just said. 

“It makes sense you know. To talk to a therapist.” Stiles voice wobbled on the word ‘therapist’. 

“Stiles…” Peter broke off when he saw the tears glistening in Stiles eyes, threatening to spill over. As gently as he could, he lifted Stile up so he was sitting, and as he sat on the edge of the bed, he wrapped his arms around Stiles and held him close as the tears spilled over. Rubbing his hands up and down Stiles back in soothing motions as he cried, now that the damn broke there was no stopping the tears. Stiles sobbed into Peter’s chest, every breath making him hurt worse, but made him feel better all at the same time. 

John must have heard something, or maybe it was the doctor, because they came into the room, with matching looks f something close to surprise. Johns however quickly turned to something else, and Peter could relate to that look as he figured it was mirrored on his own face. It looked like every sob, every breath, and every hitch in Stiles breath tore their hearts out, made them hurt, because no matter what all they could do was stand there as Stiles cried. They couldn’t do anything but be there.

\------------

Thursday was more of the same. The doctors and nurses however had Stiles up and moving around. He was more awake this time when all his friends came around though, and this time it was the nurse who came into the room, with a bemused expression on her face, and told them to be quiet, but didn’t kick them out. 

The doctor came around later and told Stiles he could go home tomorrow, and Stiles really smiled at that. 

\---------------

It was finally Friday and he was going home today. 

He laughed today. Actually laughed, it wasn’t a big laugh, more like a chuckle, but he did. When has saw all his friends, even his growly Alpha was there, standing outside the hospital by his fathers cruiser. 

When he got home, he was carried in the house by Peter and placed gently on the couch. Everyone settled in around him and a movie was put on. He was laying on the couch with his head in Peters lap and his feet on his fathers, as he dozed off halfway through the movie he was happy, he drifted off with a smile on his face, truly happy for the first time since he was taken. For the first time feeling completely safe, his pack surrounding him. 

Everyone else in the room smiled too, all sensing the Stiles was happy. The tension in the room lessened, everyone feeling better, relaxing some, because they all knew, that even though it was a small step and it was still a long road ahead of him, it was still a step forward for Stiles. 

And for the first time in days Stiles slept without a nightmare plaguing his sle


	8. Creeper Stiles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Neither of them heard a thing, as focused on the conversation that they were having.
> 
> “Well that’s nice to know.”

John still didn’t really understand. Didn’t understand what _‘mates’_ were, how it worked, and why Peter _chose_ Stiles. His son; his son who was 10+ years younger then Peter. It was ridiculous, or at least he thought it was. When he was first told it took a lot of convincing for John to not kill Peter right there. Surprisingly enough it was actually Scott who talked him out of it, saying, in a random fit of brilliance, that it was really Stiles choice and Stiles being Stiles wouldn’t like it if his father tried to take that choice away from him. 

For the past few days he had watched Peter closely, he knew how Peter never left the room unless he was there, how he comforted Stiles whenever he woke with a nightmare, how he read to him, how he did anything he could to make Stiles feel safer. 

But it wasn’t until John saw them the day Stiles came home that he thought he might be starting to understand or at least come to terms with the situation. He watched as Peter, as gently as humanly/werewolf-ly possible, picked up his son and cradled him in his arms as he carried him into the house and put him on the couch. He saw how Stiles curled into Peter, how Peter seemed to curl himself protectively around Stiles.

It was Monday now, Stiles had been home for 3 days, and John couldn’t be happier that his son was healing just fine. Well fine on the outside anyways. He would always carry the scars; they would become a part of him for the rest of his life. He would never be able to fully forget that night, only move on and become stronger, and John was certain that he would do just that. 

He walked through the door and into the kitchen, and his eyes landed on Peter who was sitting at the table drinking a cup of coffee. He walked over and poured his own cup, turned and sat down across from Peter.

“I was surprised this hasn’t happened yet.” Peter said as he looked at John. 

“I didn’t really get it, even though I said what I said, but it’s just…” John stopped.

“He’s your son, who happens to be underage and I’m a man/werewolf who you know next to nothing about. You’re wary about Stiles being my mate.”

“I suppose… Tell me something, why did you choose him? Why Stiles?” John’s voice was filled with confusion as he asked. 

Peter jerked his head up to stare at John, his eyes wide. “Chose him? Why would you think I chose him?” Peter’s eyes widened a fraction more before he closed them and then drug his hand down his face. “That’s not what I… Fuck.”

John went to say something but Peter held his hand up in a silent plea for silence. He took a couple of deep breaths before he began. “Werewolves mate for life, however we don’t actually choose our mates, its ‘fate’ if you believe in that. And no, its not like I looked at Stiles and figured out he was my mate. Its subtler then that. Everything about our mates call to us, their scent, their personality, everything. And it’s not always instantaneous either. For me Stiles is it, he’s the only one. But for Stiles it can be different. He’s human so he doesn’t necessarily feel the bond like I do. He doesn’t have to do anything about it. He’s free to choose to go away and live happily ever after with someone else. I wouldn’t ever force anything on him. However we don’t usually do so well without our mates, they become our anchors, Stiles keeps me sane, well as sane as I can be. If he left I could very well become that murderous monster everyone’s afraid of.” Peter’s eyes went hard, cold, but then lightened right back up again. “Stiles is… I love him. I don’t know how, or when but I love him.” Peter looked at John, his eyes searching for something, anything on Johns face. 

Neither of them heard a thing, as focused on the conversation that they were having.

“Well that’s nice to know.”

Both men at the table jumped up, knocking their chairs over, and stared at Stiles who had appeared in the kitchen doorway. They wore matching, comical, expressions on their faces. Eyes wide, mouths gaping, lower jaw moving up and down, doing a wonderful imitation of a fish. 

Stiles just grinned from where he leaned against the doorframe, then he seemed to come to a sudden realization. 

“Holy Shit… I just totally freaking well crept up on a werewolf.”


	9. The Meltdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finds out, and has a mini meltdown

That statement seemed to break whatever spell was over Peter and John. With a flurry of motion they both moved at the same time towards Stiles.

“Are you…”

“Why are you…”

“Stiles are you okay? Why are you up?” John asked both questions in quick succession, the words almost blurring together. 

As John asked his questions Peter reached forward and scooped Stiles up in his arms and carried him over to the table and set him in a chair. When he put Stiles down, he then went and picked up both chairs and place them back in their places. 

As he did this he didn’t notice when Stiles gave a look to his father. Or how John left the room when his son gave him that look. Or how Stiles was now staring at him. 

Stiles noticed a lot though. He noticed how tense Peter’s shoulders had become. How is face had seemed to shutdown. 

When the front door closed, that’s when Peter finally stopped trying to busy himself in the kitchen, when he noticed John had left.

“How… how much did you hear?” Peter asks Stiles his voice as emotionless as his face. 

“Enough to know I’m your mate, and what that means.” Stiles replied. 

“I see.”

Stiles seemed too deflate at that one comment. Two little words shouldn’t have that much power. Then he got upset. 

“What you didn’t want me to know! Why?” Stiles started, “Am I not what you want?” Stiles almost choked on that word, tears starting to form in his eyes. “Am I not good enough?”

“No…” Peter started, but was interrupted by Stiles.

“Well what then? Or do you think that I wouldn’t want you? That I’d think that you weren’t good enough for me?”

“Your father doesn’t think…”

“All fathers are supposed to think no ones good enough for their child.” Stiles all but yelled. 

Now tears were running down his face. “Why wouldn’t you tell me then? Especially now.”

“Stiles,” Peter walked over, his face softening. He took a hold of Stiles head between his hands and tilted his head up so he could look into Stiles eyes. “Of course I want you, I was going to wait and tell you when you were older, when you weren’t underage anymore. I just wanted for you to have a choice.”

“But you said that you wouldn’t do well without your mate after you found them. That I’m your anchor.” Stiles eyes were searching Peters face.

Peter just sighed and pulled Stiles close so he could hug him gently, wrapping his arms around Stiles. “As long as I’m around you its fine, manageable. I will be just fine.”

“But it would be easier, safer wouldn’t it if we…”

“Yes it probably would be Stiles, but its okay, nothing has to happen yet.”

Stiles looked like he was going to argue, but something changed on his face and instead of saying anything he just surged upwards, wrapping his arms around Peter’s neck and kissed him. Not that it was much of a kiss, more of a mashing of lips and teeth. 

Stiles winced as his, still not fully healed, wounds on his chest made contact with Peter’s chest. When Peter felt that he quickly grabbed a hold of Stiles arms and took them from around his neck.

“Stiles you shouldn’t…” 

Stiles seemed to just deflate right before Peter’s eyes at those three words. “Yea, okay, I guess… why would anyone want a clumsy, spastic teen with ADHD. I’m just going to…” 

When Stile went to turn around Peter grabbed his hand and pulled him back towards him. When Stiles was close enough, Peter picked him up and took him into the living room. He sat on the couch and place Stiles so he was straddling Peters lap. 

“Don’t be an idiot Stiles. I just said I wanted you. I stopped you because you were hurting yourself. I hate it when you hurt yourself.”

Without any warning Peter started to unbutton Stiles shirt, slipping it off of Stiles shoulders. He then ran his hands lightly over the bandages that still covered most of Stiles chest, one hand stopped over Stiles heart and the other on his right side. 

“Peter…?” Confusion laced Stiles voice. 

“Shush Stiles. I said I hate it when you feel pain.” With those words Peter started to suck the pain out of him. 

“But this…”

Without any hesitation Peter took his hand that was resting on Stiles side and slid it up and around to cup the back of Stiles head. “Your hairs longer now.” 

“I know…”  
Peter grinned, “You really cant stop talking can you Stiles?” 

Before Stiles had a chance to answer the question Peter pulled his head forward. Peter moved his head a fraction and their lips met, moving softly. Stiles let out a little whimper when Peter snaked his tongue out and licked along Stiles closed lips. Stiles gasped, his mouth opening, at the feeling of Peter’s lips on his own, Peter took that as an invitation to deepen the kiss, and he did. 

Or he started to anyways.

“Oh man, don’t do that here.” Scotts voice filtered through the haze filling Stiles brain and his face began to heat up at being caught, kissing Peter, by the pack. A few people snickered as the entered the room and started to sit and lay down in various places around the living room.

“Umm guys? What…?” Stiles started

“Movies remember Stiles, we said we were gonna watch movies here today.” Isaac said.

“Yes, remember Stiles.” Peter said with a smirk. 

Stiles slapped Peter’s shoulder and stood up. He started to move so he could sit on the couch beside Peter, but Peter grabbed Stiles and pulled him back down on his lap, and turned him around so Stiles was sitting sideways on Peters lap. 

Popcorn was made, places got, and the movie put on. Stiles was somewhat tired from his earlier emotional outbreak, so he snuggled down into Peters chest without a word, laid his head on Peters shoulder and idly stroked his fingers up and down Peters side. 

Peter smiled down at his mate halfway through the movie, seeing that Stiles was now sleeping. Peter rested his head on top of Stiles and held him just a little bit tighter, as he too started to drift off to sleep. 

And that’s how John found them a few hours later. The pack spread out around the living room watching movies, everyone awake but Peter and Stiles, who slept peacefully together.


	10. Stiles Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Peter, he’s having a panic attack, I know how to stop them.”
> 
> Peter whined in response and moved sideways, and Scott took that as an invitation and moved towards Stiles to start to calm him down.

It had been about a month after his father came home to find the pack spread around the living room and Stiles curled up on Peter’s lap. A month of pain, hurt, anger and so many other things that Stiles just didn’t know what to do anymore. He had been seeing a therapist quite regularly, 2 a week, sometimes 3 to discuss things he couldn’t with anyone else, it was just easier to tell a stranger. 

He no longer had to have the bandages on anymore as his wounds had healed enough to take them off permanently, he would always be scarred though, they made sure of it. 

Stiles was in the bathroom looking at himself in the mirror, looking at the scars, at the puckered mess his skin was now. He rubbed one hand up his torso and let it rest just below his heart, just below the area where he now had a bow and arrow carved into his chest. A constant reminder of just what had happened and by who, not that the other scar he possessed didn’t remind him but the bow and arrow, well it was even more of a reminder. He looked back up at his own face, barely recognizing himself most days, and thought to himself _‘I’ll do it today’_. The ‘it’ he was referring to was something his Therapist thought he should try; to go for a walk, by himself, with no one following him, and he thought that the woods would be the perfect place to do so. As he finished getting ready he decided that he would do it today.

As Stiles walked into the kitchen all eyes turned to him; taking a deep breath he stated, “I’m going for a walk.”

Instantly Scott, Isaac, Boyd and Jackson stood up. 

“We’ll go with you.” Scott said.

“No.”

“Well then, I’ll go.” Peter stated as if that was it. 

“No, I’m going by myself.”

There was complete, stunned, silence for a few seconds and Stiles thought that you could hear a pin drop, even him with his human hearing could hear it right now. 

Just as he started too turn everyone seemed to finally get what he said. Everyone started speaking at the same time, trying to holler louder then everyone else.

“You’re not…”

“But what if…?”

“You shouldn’t…”

“You’re still...”

Everyone’s voice blended into each other as Stiles started to ignore them; he looked around the room at his friends, his mate and finally his father; who look probably mirrored his own. The disbelief at how they were acting.

“No absolutely not.” He knew that growly voice instantly; Peter.

That pissed Stiles off. That one sentence that sounded like Peter was talking to a child then his mate. Peter reached for Stiles arm only to have Stiles take a step back out of reach. Stiles tried to calm down, tried to see it how they did, but that just upset him more. 

“Shut Up!” Stiles yelled, his voice filled with emotion. “You have no right to talk to me like that. Like I’m a freaking child. I know what happened when I was kidnapped, I know everything. I know the pain, the suffering. I know what happened TO ME!” Stiles took a breath and before anyone else could speak he continued. “And what about Lydia and Allison, they’re human too but you don’t see them having to have an escort everywhere they go.”

“They didn’t get kidnapped hunters, weren’t taken. You were.” Erica interrupted.

“Yea I was, and who the hell saved all of your lives at least once, huh? When the Kanima attacked you, who got you to Derek, so he could trigger the healing process? I did. If I’m so Fucking weak then how the hell did I help you that day, how in the hell did I keep Derek floating in that pool for hours, how did I help ALL of you?”

Stiles paused, taking a breath, and then said once again. “I’m going for a walk, _by myself._ ”

Everyone started talking again, yelling, about how he shouldn’t go alone, how someone had to go with him. 

Stiles looked at his father, who had been quiet during his rant, was looking right back at him, with a look on his face that Stiles couldn’t decipher. Then his father gave a slight nod and smile, obviously happy with what he saw on Stiles face. Then Stile watched as his father went over to the junk drawer and dug something out of it, Stiles didn’t see what it was till his father had turned around, a whistle, already at his lips. His father took a breath and then blew the whistle, not a sound came out, but the wolves in the room were all on the ground hands over their ears, pain contorting their faces. A dog whistle Stiles thought. 

After he stopped blowing the whistle he looked at Stiles and simply said, “Enjoy your walk son. Just be careful.”

Stiles nodded and left quickly before anyone was up off of the floor. As he walked out the door he could hear his fathers voice as he put the wolves in their place. 

\---------------

Stiles just walked, and it was on of the hardest things he’s done since he left the hospital. He walked through the woods, on familiar paths, but still not really paying attention to where he was going. Not till he reached a small pond did he break out of the trance he seemed to be in. He knew he wasn’t far from his house, but he didn’t really want to go to far. Sitting on a rock by the water, Stiles thought about what had just happened, about what had happened before. He thought about a lot of things.

He never heard the footsteps that were coming towards him, he was so lost in thought, and he didn’t even realize anyone was there until someone hand landed on his shoulder. 

Stiles let out a yell, jumping and twisting around, tripping and falling backwards on his butt. He looked up to see Chris standing there, and even though he knew Chris, he shouldn’t be afraid of Chris, he still was, and the two hunters with him didn’t help matter either. Especially because one was twirling a knife with his hand. Stiles looked at each of them, his panic rising with each second that passed. 

“Stiles? Are you okay?” a voice said, but it sounded far away. 

He couldn’t answer, his panic reaching extreme heights, a panic attack, he thought to himself. His heart sped up, fear tightening his chest. He wanted to run, get away, but his legs wouldn’t move, even if they could he probably wouldn’t be able to run anyways, he was shaking so much. His breathing sped up, and in seconds he was hyperventilating.

“What the fuck Chris?” 

“Fuck.”

Chris wasn’t sure what to do. Hell if he was being honest he dint really know what was going on. But he didn’t really have to worry about that. 

A fully shifted Alpha barreled into the clearing and toward Stiles, only stopping once he was by him, he turned to the three hunters and growled menacingly. 

“Holy fuck, I thought you said...”

“Shut up.” Chris growled at one of his companions. “Yes I know that’s an Alpha, but that boy right there is his mate. So just shut the hell up.”

Chris motioned for the other two to start slowly walking backwards, away from the Alpha, and he did the same. 

“Fuck, Stiles.” Scotts voice drifted in. Chris saw that he was followed by the rest of the pack. 

Scott ran towards Stiles only to stop when Peter growled, louder this time. 

“Peter, he’s having a panic attack, I know how to stop them.”

Peter whined in response and moved sideways, and Scott took that as an invitation and moved towards Stiles to start to calm him down. 

Scott listened as Chris explained what happened to Derek, and how Derek got Peter to shift back and gave him some clothes to put on. As soon as Peter finished dressing he was right by Stiles Picking him up as soon as the panic attack had ended and carried him back towards the house. He ignored everyone except for the man in his arms, and the tears falling down his face. 

He got back to the house, and even ignored John as he came towards Stiles, and just went past him and up the stairs to Stiles room. He could hear Derek explaining what happened but he didn’t care, all he wanted to do was curl up with his mate a reassure himself that Stiles was okay. So that’s exactly what he did, he arranged them on the bed. Both of them laying on their sides, facing each other, Peters arms wrapped around Stiles body. Stiles had his face buried in Peter’s neck, and his hands clutched at his shirt. 

“Just forget about it Stiles. We can talk about it later.” Peter mumbled into Stiles ear. Stiles mumbled in agreement as a snuggled in closer to Peter, letting his heart beat lull him into a dreamless sleep.


	11. Research

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles does his research.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im really sorry its taken this long to update. This chapter just didn't want to be wrote. Its a shorter one this time around but I figured better shorter then none at all. 
> 
> Im hoping the next one doesn't take as long to write but I make no promises.

When Stiles woke up the next morning he was alone, the bed beside him was cold so he knew that Peter had been gone for a while. Getting up he went to his closet and grabbed some clothes, as he pulled his pants up something on his desk caught his attention. A folded piece of paper laid on his keyboard, as he unfolded it a familiar handwriting came into view. 

_Got an important call and I had to leave immediately. We will talk when I get back.  
-Peter_

Stiles stared at the note for a few seconds, feelings going from one to the next, anger to sadness; a sense loss to an unfiltered rage; to nothing, just nothing. He crumpled the paper and tossed it in the trash and turned to make his way down stairs. 

He walked into the kitchen to see Isaac and Boyd sitting at the table. At his confused expression Isaac spoke up.

“Your dad got called in, and he didn’t want to leave you here alone.” ‘ _After what happened yesterday._ ’ Though unspoken the words hung in the air.

Instead of Stiles saying anything he just went to the cupboard and got out a box a cereal and proceeded to pour some in a bowl. Without putting any milk on the cereal he just left the kitchen and walked back upstairs to his room. 

“Stiles…” Isaac started to say as he left the kitchen but was interrupted when Boyd placed his hand on Isaacs shoulder.

“Give him time Isaac.”

Stiles felt some relief when he heard those words. He might be left alone for a while. He went into his room and sat down at his computer desk. He sat and stared at his computer for a moment before turning it on and deciding to do what he does best. Research. 

He researched anything and everything he could on effective methods of defense against anything paranormal, anything that’s just not normal. One thing he kept coming across was the Spark, and that was what Deaton had said about him that one time. The more he researched, the more he liked what he read about the Spark, and the more he wanted to learn. 

He looked up from his computer and at the clock, seeing that it was around noon he figured it was probably a good time to go get something to eat, that and his stomach was growling. So he went downstairs to make himself a sandwich. Isaac and Boyd weren’t in the kitchen this time but he heard the TV on so he figured they would be in there. As he made his sandwich he thought about some of the things he read about the Spark, how they could control things, though he was unsure of just how much o what he read was real, though he figured he find that out when he talked to Deaton. 

He quickly finished his sandwich and went to the living room, he stopped when Isaac looked up and stated.

“Im going to Deaton’s.”

Boyd silently stood up and went to the front door and waited. Isaac grinned.

“We’ll take you. You haven’t been cleared to drive yet, and that’s why your father asked a couple of us to stay.”

Stiles just looked at Isaac and was instantly reminded of a puppy and without thinking he gave Isaac a slight smile. Isaac lightened up immediately and Stiles saw that even Boyd smiled a little. He felt a little bit lighter as he walked out the door. Maybe, just maybe he would be okay after all.


	12. Feeling More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You’re a fucking moron Scott.”
> 
> “Me?! Why am I a fucking idiot?”
> 
> “You’re a fucking _Moron_ Scott because of what you did.” Jackson just shook his head and helped Stiles to his feet. “Maybe we should take you to the hospital.”

When Stiles arrived at Deaton’s office he told both Isaac and Boyd that he wanted to do this himself. That he didn’t want them there with him. Isaac looked hurt but Boyd just put his hand on Isaac’s shoulder and gave a slight squeeze saying that they would be at the coffee shop down the street. 

“I’ll be right out.” Came Deaton’s voice from the backroom. Instead of saying anything Stiles just sat down in one of the slightly uncomfortable plastic chairs that sat in the waiting area. 

“I’m sorry for the de… Stiles.” Deaton said coming out of the backroom. 

“Hey Doc.” Stile says with a little wave. 

“Come on into the back, Stiles. We’ll talk there.”

Stiles followed Deaton into the back of the clinic and sat down in the only chair that was in the room. He sat for a moment with his hands clasped tightly between his knees and his head down.

Taking a deep breath he looked up at Deaton and stated, “I don’t want to be powerless anymore.”

Deaton just stared at him for a minute taking in the utter lack of movement from Stiles, the resolve that graced his eyes. 

“I’m surprised it’s taken you this long to come to me and ask about this Stiles, after all I did tell you about being the Spark awhile ago.”

“Yea well we both know how well I listen.” 

“Well Stiles there’s a lot we have to do. So lets get to work.”

For the next 2 hours Stile spent listening to Deaton talk about being a Spark, what it means, what he can do. He’s told that usually a Spark usually starts out being about to control one element. There are some cases, he’s told, when a Spark starts out controlling a secondary element.

“Logically speaking then, someone who starts out with a secondary element would be somewhat weaker then someone who starts out with a main element.”

“Ah. But magic is anything but logical.” 

Stiles mutters out a comment about cryptic remarks then says “So someone with a secondary element is actually stronger then?”

“A secondary element is made up of two main elements, so if you can control a secondary one then you already know how to control, to some extent, two of the main elements.” Deaton says this as he draws a simple chart on a piece of paper, a square drawn with each of the four main elements at each corner, then another square drawn tilted over the first with for secondary elements written. “Usually someone hones a main element and only once they master the first element do they go onto a second main element, when they master that, they can combine the two to create a, third, secondary element. And there are cases when a person can eventually learn to use all of the main elements to a degree. But the ones out there who can do that are very few.”

“Okay.” Stiles pauses for a moment, “So how do we figure out which element I can control?”

Deaton flashed a small smirk and simply said, “Meditation.”

\--------------

Stiles thought a lot about what Deaton had told him, all the information about a Spark, and was also surprised when he was told that, _Werewolves can do many things, but there are something’s that we as humans can do that they can’t, and I will teach you these things as well._

Not that Stiles didn’t want to learn, he was just surprised that Deaton had offered to teach him. He had asked why not Lydia or Allison to which Deaton had replied with, _Allison will always be a hunter, and as for Lydia, she is smart, yes, but being smart isn’t everything, and do you think that Derek or Peter being Alphas and born wolves will trust either of them if they are in their wolf forms and injured?_

Now Stiles sat on the floor in his room replaying that conversation over in his head, he had multiple books open set in a semi circle around him, some about different plants and such that can be used for either harming or healing different supernatural species, others about being a Spark, and how to cultivate that power. 

As he read through one passage he decided to try and see if he could feel that power. So he got up, his muscles stiff from sitting on the floor for so long, and went to his closet where he put the mountain ash Deaton had given him _just incase he decided to practice, so the wolves couldn’t interfere with his concentration._ So he made a circle around him and his books, as he made the circle he, believed, wanted the circle to hold out any wolves who would try to interrupt him. Mind you the barrier would only work with physical interruptions, it wouldn’t work with sound. 

Sitting back down, cross legged, in the exact same spot he was before Stiles closed his eyes, relaxed his shoulders and tried to reach inside himself to find this _Power._ In one journal Deaton had given him to read, the person had wrote that they imagined it being a flame. So that’s what he did, imagined a flame, but slowly that small flame he was imagining grew and transformed. Now that flame was no longer a flame, instead it was a round ball of electricity. It pulsed as Stiles stroked it, growing even bigger inside of him. He slowly opened his eyes, hoping to see something, but not really believing he would, but there in between his hands, was strings of electricity. Each string connected his fingers together, so all together he had five. He moved his hands slightly, the stings getting longer when he pulled them apart and shorter when he moved his hands closer. 

It was going great, and that should have made him slightly uneasy, but it didn’t last for long. 

\----------------

Scott and Jackson sat on the couch downstairs watching TV. It was where they had been since Stiles came back and told them both with a slight glare that he didn’t want to be disturbed for any reason short of someone dying. 

So they sat there watching a horror movie on netflix, pointing out the horrible graphics and bad story, arguing over whom they thought would be the last one standing. 

“Its totally gonna be the blond chick left alive.” Scott argued 

“Seriously McCall, you’re an idiot, the blond chicks always die in theses movies. It’s the guy who’s going to live.”

“I don…” Scott broke off, sniffing the air for a second.

“Do you smell?” Scott asked Jackson

“Yea I do. What is it? It’s almost like what a lightning storms smells like, but not quite.” Jackson replied giving the air a sniff.

For a moment they just sat there, then sudden realization hit them both.

“Stiles”

“Stiles”

They both spoke at the same time jumping up off of the couch to run up the stairs. They raced into Stiles room, but they both stopped suddenly like they had hit an invisible wall. Which was a pretty good description of what they had hit, well it was an invisible wall to werewolves anyways. 

“He put mountain ash around him.”

“Way to state the obvious McCall.” Jackson snapped. 

“Oh my god. Look at his hands.” 

“What the…” 

Jackson and Scott stared for a moment before Scott gave a loud roar, the sound reverberating off of the walls of Stiles room.

“Scott you fuckin…” 

\-----------------

Stiles could feel the magic coursing through him, the power of it almost terrifying. He reveled in what he could do now, but also knew that he was in for a lot of practice, a lot of work. No matter what he could do now, in the relative safety of his room, it would take awhile before he could do it out there.

He was just getting ready to release his magic when a loud roar broke his concentration. He had a moment of panic before the backlash hit him. His magic broke off suddenly, the backlash of it almost felt like a chemistry experiment gone wrong, minus the damage. 

He flew backwards, crashing into the wall, drywall cracking and falling to the floor around him as he slid to the floor. He moaned in pain, his head falling forwards, as he lifted his hand up to his forehead. 

“Shit, Stiles, are you okay?” Jackson’s voice floated to him, through the slight fog that clouded his brain. “You’re a fucking moron Scott.”

“Me?! Why am I a fucking idiot?”

“You’re a fucking _Moron_ Scott because of what you did.” Jackson just shook his head and helped Stiles to his feet. “Maybe we should take you to the hospital.”

“No. I don’t need a hospital. Just let me sit down. And besides there’s not even any blood.”

Jackson steered Stiles over to the bed and sat down beside him.

“I could however use some of your super werewolf mojo.” Stiles gave a slight grin as he waved his hand in the general direction of his head. Before Scott could even make a move Jackson had his hand on the back of Stiles head, leaching the pain from his head. Scott slowly walked over and sat on the other side of Stiles.

“What was that Stiles?” Scott asked him, his voice wavering slightly. 

“That Scotty-Boy, was magic backlash. You know loss of concentration cause me to lose control of my magic which kinda exploded in my face.” Scott made a sound that kind of resembled a whimper. “It wasn’t your fault Scott, you didn’t know.” Stiles said his voice serious as he lifted his hand and put it on Scotts shoulder. “And thank you Jackson.”

Stiles got up from the bed and walked to the door, pausing in the doorway he said, “And now I’m hungry.”

Jackson and Scott jumped up off the bed and followed Stiles downstairs. As Stiles walked downstairs and made himself something to eat he thought about how much things have changed. How Jackson is still an ass but he actually likes Stiles now, doesn’t mouth of about him anymore, but that may have had something to do about that time when both Derek and Peter put him in his place after he insulted Stiles for a 5th time in under an hour. Or how Stiles helped him up afterwards and glared at both Derek and Peter for being so hard on him. Leaving both Derek and Peter baffled at what had just happened. Or how when Stiles was patching him up, he talked to Jackson, not babbled, actually talked to him. Told him how he may have been adopted, but at least he had two people who really cared for him, even if they did expect too much from him. 

As he ate his sandwich he watch Scott and Jackson argue over the little things, nothing really serious though. He smiled to himself as he thought about today. Today had been filled with a lot of small accomplishments, a few failures, and it left him feeling as if he was getting better. As if he was starting to become whole again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yea i know, it has stereotypes when they argue about the movie, i don't mean anything by it. just the typical stuffs.


	13. Returning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fine, fine. Of course I’ll come out right after school.” Stiles lied.
> 
> “Stiles…” Derek started but was once again interrupted.
> 
> “Look gotta go D-man.” Stiles said know how the use of the nickname would irritate him. “Got a test to study for.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... this one took awhile.... but here it is.

Stiles rolled over and groaned at the sound of his alarm clock going off. It was Thursday, and only the second day he had been back to school. He was happy to be able to leave the house but at the same time he hated it. Hated the looks he got from other students, hated the pity he got from the teachers. He sighed as he got up and stretched. 

“Oh well. Best get going.”

“Stiles, are you okay?” John asked as he opened the door to his son’s room. 

“Uh yea dad, everything’s alright. Just you know getting dressed.”

“Okay son. And just so you know, Scotts here.”

“WHAT!!!” Stiles exclaimed as his father closed the door.

Stiles moved as quickly as he could grabbing clothes out of the closet and pulling them on, shoving books into his back pack, and then headed downstairs. 

“Hey Scott, you’re early.”

“Uh yea. Your father said I could have pancakes if I came earlier today.”

“Pancakes… really?”

“Umm yea. Pancakes.” 

“You’re lying Scott. You suck at lying. Hell I don’t have to be a werewolf to tell that you are lying.”

“Okay, okay. He wanted me to tell him how you did with school yesterday.”

“You weren’t supposed to tell him Scott.” John said as he entered the kitchen.

“You should have picked someone else then dad, you know Scott can’t lie to save his life.” Stiles said as he and Scott sat at the table and started to eat breakfast. “And besides, I’m doing fine with school.”

“Yea son I know. I was just worried.”

“No need to worry Mr. S. We’ll make sure no one bugs Stiles.” Scott said grinning. 

\---------------

It was that same Thursday morning when Peter pulled up to the Hale house just as the pups were leaving for school. He got out of the car, feeling happy to be back home. His promise fulfilled to one of his oldest friends. He knew he would have some explaining to do, especially to Stiles, but he didn’t think that it would be to bad. 

Boyd was the first to react to him being back. Just as Peter went to say hi, Boyd let out a deep growl, teeth growing and claws forming. 

Peter’s eyes narrowed; “Think about who you’re growling at pup.” Peter growled, a slight snarl forming in his face. 

“You left. You idiot, you just left. You just left him.” Isaac growled, completely wolfed out. He leapt at Peter, but only being a Beta, Peter easily dodged, grabbed Isaac by him throat and threw him to the ground. Just as he pulled his arm back from throwing Isaac, Erica, fully wolfed out, dug her claws in the back of Peters thighs, dragging her nails through flesh to the back of his knees. Peter turned and swung his arm to try and throw her back, but she dodged and then ran to where Isaac was on the ground, Boyd quickly following Erica. 

Peter then looked to the porch where Derek now stood in the doorway. “Aren’t you going to do something about your pups, nephew of mine?” Peter asked him. 

Derek cocked his head to the side, “And why would I do that, after all they’re right, you are a moron.” Derek looked down at his watch, “But you three need to get to class. And no telling Stiles that Peter is back,” he turned to glare at Peter, “He needs to do that himself.”

Isaac went to say something, but Boyd stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and a shake of his head. 

Derek stayed silent until he could no longer hear the rumble of Boyd’s car. 

“Well…” 

“Shut it Peter. You’ll stay here; Stiles will come here after school and you can explain it to him then, but I want to know where the hell you’ve been and do you know how your little disappearing act hurt Stiles?”

\---------------

Stiles couldn’t figure it out. He was getting weird looks from everyone today. Even Boyd. And Isaac. Isaac ran away from him, and it was only noon. 

“So guys did I like step in something that offends your sensitive noses or something?” Stiles asked as he placed his tray on the table.

“Uhh… no…” Isaac stuttered out, “Why would you think that?” his eyes wide.

“Oh I don’t know Isaac, you guys are all looking at me weird, and you, you ran away from me this morning.” Stiles paused for a minute. “Oh my god, is it because you don’t like my magic?!” Stiles eyes widened at the thought, his heart beat skyrocketing. 

“Don’t be an idiot Stiles.” Erica snapped out, “Something just happened this morning and we were a little on edge about it. Right Isaac?”

“Uhh yea, on edge.”

Stiles eyes narrowed, “Fine don’t tell me then,” Stiles looked around the table at everyone, pausing mid sentence. “fine, I’m going to go study for that Chem. test we have after lunch.”

“Stiles…” Scott started but Stiles ignored him, already halfway across the cafeteria. 

“He has a right to know, you know that right?” Jackson said after Stiles left the room. “He’s going to be so pissed at Derek and us now.”

“Well I’m going to call Derek and let him know what you three idiots did.” Lydia said shooting Erica, Isaac and Boyd a scathing look. 

\----------------

Just as Stiles sat down at the desk in the far corner of the library he heard his phone ringing. He quickly dug it out of his pocket before the librarian heard it and kicked him out. Seeing that it was Derek he answered it immediately. 

“So which one of the pups called to tattle this time Derek? Or was it Lydia this time?” Stiles said sarcastically in place of hello.

“It doesn’t matter who called Stiles…” Derek started.

“So it was Lydia then. So did she tell you that your pups act like they can’t stand me today.”

“Stiles…”

“Or did she tell you…”

“Oh Stiles will you shut it.” Derek snapped. “Look I told them not to say anything alright. Just come to the house after school and I will tell you.”

“Fine, fine. Of course I’ll come out right after school.” Stiles lied.

“Stiles…” Derek started but was once again interrupted.

“Look gotta go D-man.” Stiles said know how the use of the nickname would irritate him. “Got a test to study for.”

“Stiles…!” Stiles heard Derek yell as he disconnected the call. Not wasting anytime, Stiles jumped up and packed his stuff away before making his way out of the library and towards the school parking lot. 

Stiles made his way to the jeep as quickly as he could, tossing his backpack into the passenger seat before taking off out of the parking lot. He drove aimlessly for a few minutes before he pulled over and sent a text to his dad saying that school had started to stress him out and he was just going to de-stress for the rest of the afternoon. 

After thinking for a moment he sent another text to his father.

_Just wanna be alone for a bit to think. Gonna go to that bookstore I like. Please don’t tell anyone._

In just a few seconds he received a text back.

_Okay son. Just, check in off and on would you?_

Stiles replied with a _Sure Thing Pops_ before turning his phone off and heading to the next town over to go to that bookstore.


	14. Everyone has that place...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles heard a loud gasp. As he turned towards the sound the short little Italian lady, that ran the store, came out from behind a set of shelves.
> 
> “Genim Stilinski! Come, give me a hug, piccolo.”
> 
> “Not so little anymore Signora Rizzo.” Stiles replied with a chuckle giving the older woman a hug. “And everyone calls me Stiles now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yea.. its been... way to long since I last updated. I blame part of this on the fact that I just started a new job... The other part on a complete lack of inspiration. 
> 
> But either way, heres the next chapter and I will attempt to be better with updating now....

Stiles spent the hour drive to Yuba rocking out to The Ramones with a bit of The Offspring thrown in just to switch things up a bit. He didn’t want to think about anything back at Beacon Hills right now so he let his mind drift along with the music that was currently blaring out of the jeeps speaker system. Which isn’t all that great to begin with.

As he turned onto the street where his bookstore resided he was ecstatic to see that there was a parking space right out front.

“Oh yeah! Don’t have to walk a mile today.” Stiles practically yelled as he pulled into the empty space and turned the jeep off.

Jumping out he locked up his jeep, “Wouldn’t wanna someone to try and steal my baby now would I?” he mumbled. 

Satisfied that his jeep was safe for the time being he walked out to the bookstores door and pushed his way inside. 

“Buon pomeriggio! I be right out.” Came a voice from the back.

“It’s fine Signora Rizzo, I’m just looking around today.”

Stiles heard a loud gasp. As he turned towards the sound the short little Italian lady, that ran the store, came out from behind a set of shelves.

“Genim Stilinski! Come, give me a hug, piccolo.”

“Not so little anymore Signora Rizzo.” Stiles replied with a chuckle giving the older woman a hug. “And everyone calls me Stiles now.”

“You will always be Genim for me, piccolo. Now come sit down. We have a lot to talk about. And how many times have I told you to call me Maria.” Stiles followed Maria back to a little seating area at the back of the bookstore. “You look horrible, what happened piccolo?”

“Well…” Stiles started, unsure of what to say. 

“Young man you had better not lie to me.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it Maria, Wouldn’t dream of it.” Stiles said with a smile. 

And he didn’t lie, he might have left out the parts to do with werewolves, but he didn’t actually lie about anything. They talked; there were laughs and tears. And when Stiles left, after hours of talking, he left lighter then he could have imagined. Just feeling so much better to be able to talk about it with someone who doesn’t expect anything from him. 

\---------------

After saying his goodbyes, and buying a couple of books and receiving two others as gifts, Stiles climbed into his jeep. Before he started it he checked his phone, seeing no messages from his father he ignored all of the ones from the pack and instead sent one to his dad letting him know what’s going on.

_Just leaving Maria’s dad, be home soon._

Starting the jeep he left, driving back towards Beacon Hills, and all of his troubles. 

\---------------

As he entered Beacon Hills he decided to go to the pizza place and get a pizza for him, and a salad for his father. Though he might allow his father to have one slice of pizza. One. 

He got the pizza and salad then went home. Parking beside his father’s cruiser he got out of the jeep and tried to juggle everything he had while walking up and into the house. 

“Hey Dad, I’m home.” Stiles called out. 

“Hey kiddo, enjoy your trip to the bookstore?” 

“Always. I love going to see Maria, and the bookstore is great. Got four new ones today,”

“And how many of those were gifts?” John interrupted with a raised eyebrow.

“Just two, I paid for the other ones.” Stiles grinned. “But yea here’s supper. I got a salad just for you Pops.”

John made a sound of disbelief, “Don’t I at least get one piece of pizza?”

“One, that’s it, and then your on salads and wraps for the rest of the week.” Stiles replied with a slight glare. “But anyways I should probably go see Derek, he wanted to talk to me.”

He talked to his father for a few more minutes while eating a couple slices of pizza. He found out the entire pack had been calling his father wanting to know where he was, even Derek called and much to Derek’s dismay John had refused to tell him. After they finished talking Stiles shoved the remaining pizza in the fridge, grabbed his keys and one last warning to his father that _all that pizza better still be there when I get home,_ Stiles headed out to Derek’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I have also decided to write some one-shots explaining some of parts that I don't really want to explain in this story. So if theres anything you wanna know more about let me know. If I'm not already writing it I will add it to my list of possible one shots.


	15. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, just stay away from me. All of you.” Stiles said, his voice shaking as he backed towards his jeep.

When Stiles pulled up to the Hale house everyone was on the front porch. Isaac, Erica and Boyd were all on one of the benches. Lydia, Jackson and Danny sat on the second one, and Scott and Allison sat on the third. Derek stood at the top of the steps with a scowl gracing his face, not that that’s anything new. But no, Stiles wasn’t looking at any of them, no, as Stiles got out of his jeep he was focused solely on the man standing behind Derek. 

Stiles froze a few feet from his jeep, emotions tearing through him. _Anger, sadness, betrayal._

“So this is what you wouldn’t tell me.” Stiles said, his voice cold, hard. 

“Stiles…” Derek started only to be interrupted 

“No, no you don’t get to say anything right now Derek. You’re the one who gave the order. Who told them they couldn’t tell me the one thing I’ve been waiting to hear for weeks. _Weeks,_ Derek, _weeks_.” Stiles stared straight into Derek’s eyes, “ _How could you?_ ” sounding completely devastated. 

“Now Stiles, you need to calm down.” Peter said as he walked down the steps to stand in front of him. “I know I was gone for a little while, but it was unavoidable.”

“Calm? Little while? Unavoidable?” Stiles voice rose with every word. “You call being gone for weeks a _little while?_ It was _unavoidable?”_

“Yes Stiles. That’s what I said.” Peter reached out and placed his hand on Stiles shoulder. “Now why don’t you calm down and we can go talk. Instead of yelling in the yard and causing a scene.”

Stiles eyes narrowed as he slapped Peters hand off of his shoulder. “You fucking left me Peter, right when I needed you the most. You just left. Did you even think about how it would make me feel? And what about your promise to not treat me like a child? Or was that nothing more then a bullshit lie?” Stiles walked back and forth only to stop, facing Peter once again. “Cause that exactly what you’ve done, kept your promise till it didn’t suit your needs anymore.” Stiles stood there glaring at Peter waiting for his reaction. 

“Stiles, you have to understand, I can’t tell you what happened or why, only that I had to go help an old friend.” Peter took a breath. “I wont defend my actions to you. You don’t need to know this.” 

Stiles just stared at Peter, his jaw slack in surprise at what his supposed mate had just said. His mind raced, going through a million and one reasons behind why Peter had said what he did. Why he would do this. As his mind raced he could feel his power rising within him. It settled just below the surface, raging through his body.

“I don’t do I?”

“No Stiles you don’t”

Stiles looked right into Peters eyes, the utter calm expression on his face. Seeing that Stiles could feel his on eyes growing hard, his face contorting with anger. 

“Then maybe I just don’t belong here after all. Maybe you don’t.”

“Stiles…” Peter started to say, taking a step forward. 

“No Peter. If this friend of yours means so damn much to you then maybe you should just go back to this friend. And leave me the fuck alone.” Stiles yelled at Peter, slapping both of his had against Peter’s chest. 

The second Stiles hands connected with Peters chest, his power burst from his palms. The force of the power made Peter fly backwards through the air, landing with a loud crash of splintering wood as he flew through the front door on the Hale house. 

Stiles looked down at his hands and back up to the mess of the front door where Peter crashed. His eyes widened and tears began to fall down his face. 

“Stiles...” Scott started to say as he came down the stairs towards Stiles. Jackson, Lydia and Allison following him. 

Stiles focused on Scott for a second then looked to Derek, who stood there motionless, and back to Scott again. 

“No, just stay away from me. All of you.” Stiles said, his voice shaking as he backed towards his jeep. “You just kept quiet about it all. No. Just stay away from me. All of you.” Stiles yelled, doubling over with tears streaming down his face. He quickly got back up, turned and raced toward his jeep. Getting it started and driving away before anyone could think to follow him.

\-----------

Driving straight home, Stiles went upstairs and grabbed the black box buried in the back of his closet. Opening it he grabbed the mountain ash that Deaton had given him. He walked back outside and started to walk the perimeter of his property, a thin line of mountain ash falling out of his closed fist. He came to a stop, only inches from completing the circle as 3 vehicles pulled up outside of his house. He looked up to see the entire pack get out of their vehicles.

“Stiles…” Peter said as he walked towards Stiles. 

Stiles just looked to Peter, his face hardening even more as he moved his hand in a straight line to finish the circle. Not waiting to hear anything that the pack had to say he quickly turned and walked back to the house. He closed the door behind him and quickly locked it as well, knowing that Lydia and Allison could both cross then line. He went through the house and locked the back door as well as all of the windows. He also closed the curtains, not wanting any of them to be able to look inside. 

\----------------

“I could…”

“He has all of the doors and windows locked, Lydia. I think he’s made his intentions very clear right now.” Derek said, interrupting Lydia. “Lets go back and just wait for him. That’s all we can do.”


	16. Tattoos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I can call you Clayton right, after all you’re going to be causing me hours of pain from a needle digging into my skin. I think we should be on a first name biases.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here it is, after months of my plot bunnies holding it hostage, heres the next chapter. I hope that the next one won't take quite as long but I make no promises. Most of my plot bunnies seem to be evil little asshats.

It had been a week, a week of avoiding the pack at school and outside of school. Considering he only had three days to worry about at school it wasn’t that hard. Besides he also learned that you didn’t need a full circle of ash to make it work, just 4 points and a little belief and his circle worked. It started out that he just carried 4 little bags with some mountain ash in them, but after the forth time one got broke he decided to try something different. So with a little help from Deaton, and a lot of help from the Internet, he came up with the concept of having a bracelet on each wrist, a necklace, and a small simple charm in his wallet. He decided on 2 simple bracelets both with the triskele marking them, a necklace also with a triskele charm, and the same charm from the necklace would be the one he left in his wallet. Getting the mountain ash onto the different pieces was the difficult part to this entire project but after a time he decided on infusing the mountain ash with the paint. After that was done he just painted over the already black markings on each piece. 

During this week he also talked to his father about getting a tattoo and after weighing all of the pros and cons and coming up with a design it was decided that Stiles could get it done as soon as the artist could book the appointment.

And now here he stood, with his dad, outside of Triskele Tattoos. 

“So you said this place was owned by werewolves?”

“I said its possible dad, but its not like I could just ask that over the phone without sounding like a complete nut job.”

John gave a light glare then broke out into a grin. “No, I don’t suppose you could.”

“Well here goes nothing.” Stiles said with a slight grin, looking back at his father as he walked towards the door.

John just chuckled as he followed his son into the tattoo parlor. “Well at least its never boring kid.”

The door opened with a jingle and the two men walked through the door. Stiles walked in and walked towards the counter sitting off to one side of the shop. Before him or his father reached the counter a large man walked out from the back of the shop.

“Welcome to Triskele Tattoos. How may I hel…” He broke off abruptly and froze, his head jerking up quickly to stare at Stiles and his father. “Why the hell…” he growled, eyes flaring a bright blue.

“Jason,” a voice boomed. “What the hell do you think your doing.” 

“They, they fucking smell like mountain ash and wolfs bane.” Jason whined underneath the glare of his Alpha who then slapped him up side of his head.

At that moment Stiles took a few steps forward and stuck out his hand, “Stiles Stilinski, I believe I’m down for a 11 o’clock appointment.”

The Beta just gaped at him as his Alpha reached forward and grasped his hand to give it a firm shake.

“Clayton Shaw, It’s nice to meet you Mr. Stilinski. I apologize for my beta here.”

“It’s no problem Mr. Shaw, I tend to get that reaction from most werewolves I meet.”

Clayton walked around back of the counter and picked up a clip board. “If you’d just fill this out, then we can go get this thing started.”

“Okay.” Stiles said as he stepped forward. 

“I already have the stencil for it all done up and everything’s ready to go. You said there was quite a lot of scaring right?”

“Yes,” Stiles said as he handed back the form. “And I understand what you said about the placement being slightly iffy but as long as it goes on that area I’m okay with it being a little more one way or up a little higher.”

“Good well lets head back and if you don’t mind I’d like to know a bit of the back-story for the tattoo, it helps sometimes knowing the feelings behind it.”

Stiles and his father followed Clayton to the back into one of the few rooms the building held. A he sat on the chair he said, “You should just call me Stiles as I’m pretty sure we’ll be here for a while. I really would prefer to get it all done today and now that I know you’re a were I’m sure you won’t mind me using a bit of power to make it heal faster as you work and so the pain doesn’t get to much.”

“Ok Stiles I can’t say I’ve ever tattooed a Spark before, at least not one who knew of their magic. We’ll have to see how it works as we go.”

“Wait a second,” John interrupted. “You know about Sparks and magic and all that?”

“Yes of course, I was groomed to be the Alpha of my pack from when I was little, with lessons on everything out previous Alphas had ever encountered. I have met a couple of people who had a Spark, but...” Clayton paused 

“But what?” Stiles asked. 

Clayton frowned as he set up all of his equipment. “None of them seemed as powerful as you do right now.”

“Ah, well you know how it is.” Stiles said with a grin.

Clayton just looked at him for a moment before replying, “I understand.” The two shared a look as John looked on slightly confused as to what just happened. 

Then as if the last few moments never happened Clayton finished setting up his equipment and then said “Okay you want to heal as we go right?”

“Yea.”

“Alright well healing right as I tattoo may cause the ink to just leak right back out resulting in either no ink taking or splotchy areas. So how about as I finish up an area I let you know and you can heal that section that way the ink may take better. Also I’m not sure if you can do this or not, but if you could reverse the way you heal...”

“Reverse it?” John speaks up, “How would he do that.”

“Yea, I mean I know that wounds heal from the inside out, so what, you want me to heal from the outside in?’

“Basically, yes, if you could heal the top layers of skin first then that would most likely help the ink take a lot better.”

“Well I’ll just have to try it and see, I’ve been training with some help on healing since I decided I wanted to get this done, though at first we weren’t sure if I would even be able to do healing magic. I’m not an expert or anything now but I can heal minor wounds and such when I want to and now it’s not even as draining as it was when I first started.”

Clayton raised an eyebrow at Stiles as he deliberately left out who was training him and set about trying to line up the stencil on Stiles chest. 

He placed the stencil and made a motion to the mirror in the room. “Go check it to see if it’s good there. There’s not much we can do to move it but it can be wiggled around a bit.”

Stiles stood up and walked over to the full-length mirror and stared for a moment at the blue ink that graced his skin. The tribal like markings above the wolf’s head curved up over his shoulder, and the ones at the bottom curved around his ribs. The center of the tattoo, the main component, the wolf’s head, rested over his heart. 

Stiles swallowed as a lump formed in his throat. “It’s perfect Clayton.” Stiles gave a slight smile and looked over his shoulder at the Wolf. “I can call you Clayton right, after all you’re going to be causing me hours of pain from a needle digging into my skin. I think we should be on a first name biases.” 

“Of course.” Clayton replied. 

John just rolled his eyes as Stiles turned and sat back down. “Alright well I think you’re in good enough hands here. I’m just gonna run out and grab something to eat and maybe look around, Janine’s having her baby soon so everyone chipped in to get her something for the baby.”

Stiles nodded his head as he watched Clayton get ready to lay the first line of ink down. “Okay take your time, I’m gonna be here for awhile.” John chuckled and turned to walk out of the room. “And no junk food, if you get anything you better be getting a salad.” Stiles voice rose on each word to make sure his father heard as he walked out of the building. The only reply he heard was his fathers laugh. 

“Okay sit back and lets get started on this monster here.” Clayton said to Stiles amusement clear in his voice. 

For the next few hours the sound of many buzzing bees filled the room as Clayton worked away. John had come back but just sat silently in the corner. Despite the fact that Stiles usually talked a mile a minute he was mostly silent as he concentrated on healing in such a way that the ink would take. So far he had no problems with that. 

At the 6-hour mark Clayton leaned back and said, “Just a few more minutes and we’ll be done.” John who had dozed in the corner came awake with a start at the sound of Claytons voice. 

“Wait, you’re almost done?” John said as he straightened up. 

“Yep, with the accelerated healing and pain management that he can do it made doing the tattoo a little quicker then I would have with your average human.” 

A few more minutes passed, and with a sigh Clayton leaned back, put the tattoo gun down and said, “There, it’s all done.”

Stiles stood up and walked back over to the mirror once again. He stood there for a good 10 minutes just staring before reaching up and running his fingers over the covered skin. 

“Its Beautiful Clayton, absolutely perfect.”

“That it is son.” John said as he placed his hand on Stiles shoulder and gave a slight squeeze. 

“Alrite, well lets head back out front and get this all settled up.” Clayton replied.

The two men followed the alpha back out front and settled the bill. Clayton, forgetting what Stiles had done, started to go over the aftercare instructions, halfway through he broke off with a slight grin and said, “Sorry, force of habit.”

Stiles laughed and then turned to leave, looking back he gave a small wave, “See ya Clayton. Thanks.”

John and Stiles walked back out onto the street, they were empty now darkness settling in, streetlights on.

“Well son, its pretty amazing that’s for sure.”

“Thanks Dad, for everything. For letting me get it, for not giving me a hard time about it.”

[ ](http://s204.photobucket.com/user/lunias1/media/8fae5347-f863-43eb-8292-67f8810c2b25.jpg.html)


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know Its been forever since I last updated and I'm sorry. Writers block is a bitch like that. But after so long i finally have a chapter. Its a short one but a chapter none the less.

Stiles didn’t know what to do now. All he wanted was an apology, a freaking apology. Was that too much to ask? Apparently so, since Stiles hasn’t even as much as caught a glimpse of Peter since the whole thing. Not an attempt to get in the house, no call, no text, no email, not even a freaking letter. Sure everyone else had tried even Derek, but it wasn’t them he wanted, no _needed_ , the apology from. Well he did, but Peter should have come to him first, not the pack, it wasn’t their place to apologize for him. 

“Uhh son, are you okay?” John asked hesitantly from the kitchen door. “Cause you know, you’re cleaning, and ranting.” 

Stiles eyes grew wide. “Shit, I said all that out loud didn't I? And I clean.”  
“Language kid, and yea you did.” John chuckled, “ You don’t clean like this, you give a quick wipe and say it’s clean,” John raised an eyebrow, “You’re cleaning the grout son, the grout on the backsplash tiles. With a toothbrush. And If I’m not mistaken that is _my_ toothbrush”

Stiles looked at the toothbrush in his hand. “Huh, you’re right.” Stiles turned and walked away from the counter and pulled out a chair and flopped down in it. John walked over to the table only stopping to pour himself and Stiles both a cup of coffee.

Stiles dropped his head into his hands and sighed, “Is it really to much to ask that _he_ apologizes to me? Was being his so called mate complete crap? Am I really that stupid and pathetic that I don’t even rate an apology from him?”

“Stop right there Stiles.” John said his voice tight, “If anyone is stupid and pathetic it’s him, not you. He doesn’t deserve you if that’s the way he’s going to act.”

“Yea I guess you’re right.” Stiles mumbles, still looking dejected.

\--------------

John was pissed, beyond pissed at this point. That bastard hurt his son after spewing all that stuff about mates and how they put them first. John was fuming, and when he was like this he came up with ideas. Which is how he found himself currently standing at the door of Peter Hales apartment. 

“Hello John, do please come in.” Peter said as he opened the door.

“Peter,” John all but growled, his face a mask of fury. “Do you want to tell me what you did to make my son feel like he’s, and I quote, stupid and pathetic. Why he’s so upset after you promised not to hurt him. After all that bullshit you spewed about mates and how they feel about each other. How you just left him to worry without even saying a single word, without letting him know that you wouldn’t be there when he woke up. Just a note, a _fucking_ note.” 

“John,” Peter said turning and walking back into the apartment, “It is regrettable...”

Before Peter could get out anything else he heard a soft popping sound and then felt a searing agony, a familiar, but horrid pain, as a bullet tore through flesh, ripped through muscle and shattered bone. Peter fell forward; his hands hitting the floor, the only thing holding him from face planting. 

A snarl twisted Peters face but before he could say anything John had continued speaking. “You know that right there was a jacketed hollow point round. When it hits a soft target the bullet expands which causes more extensive damage. It also helps the bullet stay inside the target. Now you might also be trying to figure out why your body hasn’t properly started to heal yet, why the outer layer of flesh has already started to heal but the bone and muscles aren’t. Well you see I went to Chris and we talked and then he helped me get these bullets made. So you see there was a form of wolfs bane in the bullet,” John paused as Peter let out a low growl. “Don’t worry it wont kill you. It’s a different strain then what you’re used to, it doesn’t kill you just causes pain. I suggest you get the bullet out.”

Peter just stared at John somewhat surprised that the man had shot him. With a wolfsbane bullet no less, but when the pain didn't decrease any and Peter felt the outer layer of flesh healing but not muscle and bone just like John had said he knew that he had to get the bullet out. He let his claws come out and started to dig through his knee. John watched him for a second letting him tear the skin open again in an attempt to remove the bullet, letting him cause himself even more pain. John then turned to go back out the door but paused again, “Oh, I forgot to mention this there’s also some mountain ash in there, just a little but you wont be able to get the bullet out yourself.” John looks down at Peter who has turn over and is now sitting on the floor. “You have a week, a week to beg and plead for Stiles to forgive you, what you did was a complete shit thing to do, pathetic. So yes you have a week, or else the next time I find you I wont stop with one bullet and you can sure as hell believe that the wolfs bane I use the next time will be to kill you.”

With that said John walks out of the apartment, closes the door and leaves.


End file.
